


Crossing the Same River

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Blood, Coercion, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extra Treat, F/M, Humiliation, Pain, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rare Pair, Self-Loathing, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: Miraj Scintel is not looking for another slave. She is looking for the stubborn Jedi to willingly swear his loyalty to her. Perhaps his history as a slave is getting in the way of him understanding the difference. She seeks to demonstrate the difference by showing him just how bad it could be if she were looking for just another slave.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mithrigil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithrigil/gifts).



> Cheers for this prompt/pairing suggestion. Something like this was crying out for a treat-fill, so here it is.
> 
> Shout-out to my editor for all her assistance. Please heed the tags.

‘I’ve been very patient with you,’ Scintel said as she stalked over to her nightstand and placed her crown on it. 

Anakin shrugged. ‘You can afford to be.’

‘Can your friends?’ 

He flinched. His hands clenched at his sides and he dropped his gaze. She walked over to him, and tilted his chin up with one hand. Her claws pricked against his jaw.

‘That’s the point I’ve been trying to make,’ she said. ‘You’re fighting this so hard because you think you’d be signing yourself off as a slave. That’s not what I want from you.’

Anakin pulled his face away from her grip, ignoring the light flick of pain from her claws. ‘I don’t want to join you, or serve you, so yes, if I did what you wanted, that would be… enslaving myself.’ He had to force the last two words. They tasted thick and bitter on his tongue. He would get out of here, he would free his friends and then he wouldn’t need to… He wouldn’t. Not again.

Scintel made a frustrated growling noise in the back of her throat. ‘Stubborn Jedi. It’s like you have no concept of the difference between you choosing to kneel and me forcing you to.’

Anakin folded his arms and scowled at her.

With two swift steps she was back in his face. She was tall, and stronger than human-standard, though still ultimately a Force-null. ‘Kneel,’ she said. Her tone was suffused with command, the utter certainty that she’d be obeyed. His anger simmered low in his gut, but he merely raised an eyebrow. 

‘Oh, that wasn’t a suggestion. This isn’t part of our bargaining anymore,’ she said. ‘You will do what I say and I will show you just how bad this could be for you. I will have your service, either by your choice, or by my strength.’

‘This isn’t strength,’ Anakin replied. It was hard remembering the other kinds of strength, like bravery and loyalty, while being constantly reminded of the kind of strength that could enslave.

‘Kneel,’ Scintel repeated. Anakin sneered at her. ‘Kneel or I hurt your friends. Have you forgotten about them so soon?’ 

The rage surged up stronger and Anakin stamped down on it. _There is no emotion, there is peace,_ he thought. He could do this much. For Obi-Wan, for Ahsoka. He knelt.

Scintel laughed softly and circled around him. He _hated_ having her behind him, and it was worse when she ruffled his hair with her hand. She moved toward the bed and he watched her through narrowed eyes. ‘Come over here,’ she said. Anakin rose on one knee, but she stopped him with a word. ‘No, crawl here.’

The rage was back and something else, heavy and clenching inside him. ‘No,’ he spat out before he could control the impulse. 

Scintel arched a lightly furred eyebrow at him. ‘No? Do you remember why you’re on your knees? Why you can’t defy me?’

Of course he knew. It was impossible to forget the hold she had over him, but that only stayed his hand from violence, kept him plotting. To follow these pointless little orders that were given for no better reason than to hurt him and to force him to recognise just how few options he had… that was something else. He kept still and silent, caught between far too many conflicting emotions. 

Scintel sighed and walked back toward him. ‘Stubborn and proud,’ she said. ‘In some ways I would expect no less.’ Her hand was back in his hair. He tried not to flinch from her touch. ‘You know, if I had your friends right here, a blaster pointed at them, I think you’d obey.’

Anakin stayed silent. She was probably right about that. The threat to his friends felt less immediate in here in her bedroom with just the two of them. He should be thinking about his friends and not his stupid pride. It didn’t matter what old feelings this situation was dredging up from his mind. That wasn’t important, _they_ were important, but he couldn’t quite force himself to bend like that. Not as a slave.

Scintel was speaking again. She didn’t sound angry like he expected. Instead there was a note of pity in her voice. It turned his stomach. ‘It’s a tenuous leash, I know. The threat is so abstract and isn’t about direct strength and power, which makes it hard to really _feel_. I’m going to help you.’

She crouched down in front of him. Her tawny eyes were hard to read. With no warning she slapped him across the face. Her claws caught at his cheek and opened shallow gashes. Warm blood welled from the cuts. Before he had time to brace, she backhanded him. She was much stronger than human-standard and the blow sent him sprawling across her floor. 

Anakin pushed up against the rug, but she’d got to her feet and placed a foot on his shoulder. ‘Stay down,’ she said. In his peripheral vision, Anakin caught the sight of her electrowhip cable a second before she activated the electric field. 

The first strike sent pain shooting down his back, even through the barrier of his clothes. Anakin set his jaw and tried to remain quiet. She stopped at four strikes and the pain faded, leaving an unpleasant prickling sensation in its wake.

‘Kneel,’ said Scintel. Anakin got back up to his knees. He kept his head bowed. Scintel walked back over to the bed, the whip still out, but she’d deactivated the current. ‘Now crawl,’ she said.

Anakin crawled. It wasn’t quite the threat of more pain that made it suddenly easy to obey. He’d suffered far worse torture without it _getting_ to him like this. But he’d learned long ago, he’d had the lesson _ingrained_ , that if your master was hurting you, obeying was the best thing to do. Resisting made things worse, got you damaged, got you sold, sent you to a worse place with a worse master away from your family. There was no shame in a slave obeying, the risks of fighting were too much. 

The touch of a whip and the imperious tones of a slave-owner were messing with his head. He couldn’t fight this, didn’t _want_ to fight this, not when things could end up so much worse. Somehow she _knew_. 

Scintel had been able to tell that he’d been a slave and now she knew exactly what to do to put him right back there. A vicious wave of hate rose up inside him. He wasn’t sure who it was directed at, exactly. 

He stopped once her feet were in his peripheral vision. She wasn’t wearing her shoes and her nails were a lot like the claws on her hands. Anakin didn’t raise his head or get off his hands and knees. He didn’t want to see her face.

‘Sit back on your knees,’ Scintel commanded. Her tone had softened slightly.

Anakin did as he was told and realised that she was seated on her bed. She leaned forward and wrapped a hand around his throat. Anakin’s breath caught, even though the pressure was mild, just strong enough to feel without obstructing his breathing. Her claws pricked lightly against the side of his neck, but he didn’t think that was intentional. 

‘I could have collared you,’ Scintel mused. ‘But as I keep trying to tell you, that’s not what I want.’

Anakin was keenly aware of every breath he drew past the light touch of her fingers. He’d never worn a collar, not even as a slave. There was no reason for this to be getting to him, no reason for his head to be nearly swimming with the threat. Her claws could tear through his throat in a heartbeat, maybe faster than he’d have time to draw on the Force. His next breath sounded like a sob to his ears and still Scintel held him in that gentle grip.

‘Relax. You don’t need to worry. You don’t need to think. You just need to obey.’

To Anakin’s horror his next breath came easier, as did the one after it. ‘Good,’ she said in a satisfied tone and Anakin had to squeeze his eyes shut to block out the pleased smile that hovered around her lips. She let go of his throat. The back of her hand brushed against the side of his face. Even gentle, the touch still hurt against the fresh cuts on his cheek.

‘Open your eyes,’ Scintel said. ‘Look at me.’

He did so, staring into her warm golden eyes. He tried to see them as something abstract, like colour and shape without substance, without _her_ behind them, staring back at him. 

The smile was still on her face, but she released his neck. It took an immense effort of willpower not to fall back to his hands and knees, not to curl in on himself for protection. 

‘You may stand up to remove your clothes,’ she said, waving vaguely in his direction.

Anakin started. Scintel was looking at him expectantly. He hesitated, still staring at her in disbelief. This was supposed to be about torture, about hurting him and with the way she’d been talking he’d expected that she’d want something like this of his own free will. 

Scintel got impatient and reactivated the whip, but it wasn’t until he felt the bite of it across his shoulders that Anakin stood. He wasn’t going to do this of his own free will and he’d _make_ her hurt him. The whip lashed against his midriff, half wrapping around him to lick at his back. Anakin tugged his tunic off over his head and dropped it. Even keeping his movements as perfunctory as possible, Scintel was gazing at him with a hungry look in her eyes. Anakin’s lip curled up in distaste.

The whip cracked against his chest. Against bare flesh, it stung even more. The lash raised a long welt, even as the electricity ran across his nerves. Anakin hissed. 

‘Keep going,’ she said.

Scowling even harder, Anakin bent over to undo the straps on his boots and pull them off. He straightened and pushed down his pants, stepping out of the last of his clothes. His breathing had sped up and he tried to remember the techniques to control the waves of fear and rage.

Scintel stood in one graceful movement and walked up to him. She trailed her nails down his chest while he suppressed a flinch. Then she circled him, trailing her fingertips and claws across his flesh. He tensed, once again hating having her outside his field of view. He tried to turn his head to track her.

‘Eyes front,’ she snapped at him. The words bypassed his thought process and he immediately faced forward again, unconsciously standing to attention. He deliberately slouched as soon as he realised what he was doing.

‘Very nice,’ Scintel said, her nails trailing down Anakin’s spine until they reached the small of his back. ‘Strong muscles, soft skin, quite a few scars, but that’s to be expected, hmm? You’d fetch a good price at the markets if I planned on selling you.’ 

Anakin tensed his jaw and stared straight ahead. His skin prickled beneath her claws, reminding him of the aftershocks from the electrowhip. She circled back to his front and leaned forward to kiss him. Anakin stayed still and silent, trying very hard to ignore the rasp of her tongue against his lips. 

She pulled back after a moment. ‘Stubborn.’ 

Rather than hurting him, she prowled back to the bed. Anakin’s fear reasserted itself as she removed her pants. Her legs were partially hidden by the flowing fabric of her gown’s train, and she didn’t take off any other clothes. She beckoned him over.

Anakin walked stiffly, trying hard not to feel grateful that she wasn’t forcing him to crawl this time. Gratitude was a dangerous feeling in these circumstances. It was all too easy to make excuses for the person who owned you, to look forward to their rare flashes of approval.

Scintel stretched out on the bed, her muscles rippling beneath her unmarred skin. The electrowhip stayed close to hand, but her claws and fangs felt like the more visceral threat. As did the triumphant look in her eyes.

‘Kneel down between my legs,’ she commanded.

Anakin stood where he was in grim silence. This was something he wasn’t going to do without a great deal of coercion. Scintel waited for a moment and then sighed. ‘You’re not going to make this easy, are you?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Anakin said. He put as much determination behind the word as he could. It felt good to say it, almost like it might protect him.

Scintel swung off the bed again and stood. The sway of her hips wasn’t quite human and a part of Anakin’s hindbrain was thinking _predator_. She circled behind him again and Anakin grit his teeth.

The whip activated and a heartbeat later the first strike landed across his shoulders. Pain lanced through his body, the artificial electrical impulses chasing themselves down his nerves. Scintel gave him no respite and rained strikes down his back in quick succession. By five strikes Anakin couldn’t hold back his pained noises no matter how he clenched his jaw. By ten his legs were trembling. By twenty he fell to his knees with a cry. He couldn’t hold up under the merciless onslaught. Pain clouded his thoughts and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he gave in.

It took a full thirty lashes before he spoke. ‘Please!’

Scientel paused. Anakin panted where he knelt, desperately ignoring the wetness gathering in his eyes. ‘What was that?’ she asked.

‘Please. Please stop,’ he said quietly. His head hung limply and he focused his attention on the pattern of the rug beneath him.

‘Are you going to behave?’

Anakin was silent a moment too long. The electrowhip licked at his back again. ‘Yes! Yes. I’ll behave.’

Scintel made a rumbling sound in the back of her throat. Anakin flinched when he felt something touch his back. It was only her hand, but pain still flared as she traced the welts on his back. ‘Good.’ She got back on the bed. ‘Get on the bed and kneel down between my legs.’

Anakin got to his feet shakily and did as he was told. She flicked aside the cloth that was draped across her lap and then reached out to run her fingers through his hair. The gentle touch sent shivers through him as his sensitised nerves amplified every light scratch of her claws.

She pulled him down toward her. ‘Lick,’ she ordered, pressing his face against her. Anakin felt sick, but he obeyed. He focused on the pain that still radiated from his back and tried to ignore the scent and taste of what he was doing. 

Scintel smelt of sex, close enough to human-standard to remind him of doing this by choice. He didn’t want this poisoning his happy memories of moments stolen with Padmé, of laughter and closeness and trusting intimacy. He drew back far enough to speak. ‘Make it hurt.’

Scintel looked down at him with a smirk. ‘Do you really think you’re in the position to tell me what to do?’ 

‘Please. Please make it hurt. I don’t want this.’

She laughed and dragged her hand through his hair, her claws scratching deeply enough to cause pain. Anakin shuddered. ‘Because I’m feeling merciful, I’ll make a deal with you. If you try hard and please me, I’ll hurt you. If I find you less than enthusiastic I’ll stay gentle. Your choice.’

Anakin stared into her eyes, reading the cruel, playful amusement and then bowed his head. He licked her fast and avidly. The anatomy was similar enough that he could make some educated guesses about what would please her. 

When he flicked his tongue against her clit, she dug her claws into his scalp hard enough to draw blood. He did it again, focusing on the burn of the pain and nothing else. When he pressed harder, increasing the friction, she dug her heel into the small of his back, right across some lash-marks. Anakin groaned in pain, redoubling his efforts. His breath hissed out of his nose and his pulse was pounding in his head. 

Scintel was making soft breathy noises of pleasure and she was very slick beneath his tongue. Anakin was resolutely ignoring her in the Force, not wanting to brush up against her mind at all. He didn’t want to feel even the edges of her pleasure. Even so, it was easy enough to tell when she was close. The tension in her body peaked and her back arching sinuously as she came. Her claws skittered off his scalp and dug into his shoulders instead. The pain was welcome and grounding. Anakin hid his face in her thigh and tried to get control of his breathing.

She released him after a long moment as her body relaxed. Anakin’s gaze moved up her body and he could only stare when she delicately licked his blood off her claws. ‘That was good, you did well,’ she said. She smiled down at him. He scowled. ‘Oh don’t be like that,’ she said, sitting up and cupping his face with one hand. 

Anakin tried to pull his face away, but her grip tightened. She swiped a finger across his cheek. It was only then that he realised that he was crying. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, even though his breaths were even and calm. It looked like the meditation breathing exercises were useful for something, at least.

‘So dramatic,’ Scintel sighed. ‘It’s not all pain, you know. I can be quite generous, even when you’re being this unreasonable.’ With those words she pushed him down until he was lying on his back. She sat across his legs and held him down with a hand against his chest. Then she grabbed his cock. Anakin twisted beneath her to escape, but she had the necessary strength and leverage to hold him down. 

‘Stop that,’ she snapped, digging her claws in. ‘You’re clearly enjoying yourself.’

Anakin was already half-hard beneath her hand, but he wasn’t enjoying himself in any way. His body had learned the kind of cues that typically meant sex and all the signals had gone crossed. It didn’t mean anything, he didn’t want this and he hated his body for betraying him this way. Even the pain where his welts scraped against the bedcovers wasn’t enough to stop this.

‘Don’t!’ he said, real panic in his voice. ‘I don’t want it, please don’t!’

‘Nonsense,’ Scintel said and started stroking him. 

He tried to thrash again, but this time Scintel moved her hand up so she was grasping his throat again. Anakin stilled at the feel of those claws right over his pulsepoint. His next breath was a pained gasp. All the while, her touch on his cock was firm and gentle. It felt miserably good. Anakin clenched his jaw against the sounds that were trying to escape. He turned his head away squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out, block everything out. His hips rose against his will and a particularly firm squeeze had him arching up. 

At least she didn’t draw it out and maybe that was mercy. Anakin came with a hoarse cry that tasted bitter in his mouth. His tears were flowing faster now and even the meditative exercises couldn’t keep his breath from hitching and stuttering in his chest. As soon as Scintel got off him, he curled into a ball. It was useless to hide like this, but on some level it felt safer. She let him lie like that for a long moment before she spoke again.

‘Stop hunching in on yourself like that,’ she said.

Anakin took three more deep breaths before stretching his body out. Scintel dragged a hand through his hair and pulled his head onto her lap. She patted him like an animal. He was too sick and tired to even protest. At least his back still hurt. 

‘I don’t know if you’ve learned a lesson here tonight, but hopefully things will seem clearer to you in the morning. You can even sleep at the foot of my bed tonight.’ She said the last part like she was bestowing some kind of favour. Anakin thought about what it would feel like to kill her. He wouldn’t be able to yet, not while she held the lives of his friends, but soon. He doubted even Obi-Wan would try and stop him.


End file.
